A Day In The Life Of An Addams
by addamzfamily2013
Summary: What does Wednesday Addams do on her idea of a perfect day? Well, what would any abnormal teenage girl do on a rainy day? Read and find out. A first time story about the teen in the Addams family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wanted to do a first time story so I thought about the scene in the first Addams family movie when Wednesday hides in the crypt from whom she thinks is her uncle Fester. I did a take on that but a year earlier. It kind of tells about what Wednesday does on her typical perfect day. Remember, this is my first story and I will write more depending on the reviews. There will be more chapters for this specific story. Please enjoy and reviews are greatly appreciated. **

Outside the Addams house, the rain fell, the thunder roared, and the lightening streaked across the sky. The day was a day every Addams dreamed of.

Thirteen year old Wednesday Addams was up in her room, staring out a window dripping with rain. Her face was solemn as it always was, with her pale face and pitch black hair like her mother's that was always set in shoulder length braids. She rarely ever smiled or laughed; unless it was at the expense of someone else, which was always fun.

Wednesday looked out into the family's backyard graveyard, littered with headstones and flooded with muddy water. The rain splashed down on to the large, cement crypt in the middle of the cemetery. The ornate carvings on its threshold dripped with rain as a long lightning bolt split the cloudy sky and a loud clap of thunder followed behind. Wednesday got up from her red velvet cushioned window seat and smoothed her navy blue button up dress. She walked across her dimly lit room to her old vanity with a cracked mirror and fixed the white lace collar of her dress. Then Wednesday turned to her queen bed and picked up her favorite headless doll that she called Marie Antoinette. Wednesday held the doll by its left arm as it hung limply at her side. She then walked to her paint chipped door, pulled it open with a loud squeak, and walked out on to the creaky landing of the winding staircase.

As she looked down the stairs, she heard a creaking sound behind her. Wednesday turned sharply and glared at her younger brother.

"What are you doing Wednesday?" Pugsely inquired. He was wearing his favorite black and white striped shirt with a pair of thigh length shorts. Wednesday thought he looked childish in what he considered 'clothing' but she held her tongue and accepted it because it was good enough for the ten year old boy he was.

"I'm going outside," she answered nonspecifically. Pugsely always wanted to be with her no matter what she was doing. On some days that was just what she wanted; someone to torture. Today she just wanted to be alone.

"Are you going to go play in the graveyard?" Pugsely asked, getting ready to offer to join her.

"Maybe," Wednesday said solemnly. "You can't come, Pugsely. I want to be alone," she informed him, turning to go down the stairs. The first stair creaked under the pressure of Wednesday's high heeled white and black Victorian boot.

"I wasn't going to ask that," Pugsely denied.

"Pugsely," Wednesday began, turning to her brother with a mysterious look in her eyes that would make any normal person cringe. "Trust me, I know what you were going to ask and I wouldn't have mentioned that if that wasn't it." Wednesday shot back smartly as she made her way down the staircase; each step creaking in a different tone as she made her way down towards the next floor.


	2. Chapter 2

When Wednesday finally reached the next floor, she strolled into the parlor where her parents were. Her father was sitting next to her mother on the violet loveseat in the center of the room. Gomez had one long arm around his bride and the other was grasping an expensive cigar. Morticia was snuggled close to him, her head resting romantically against his chest.

"Hello my little bat's ear," Gomez said in his rich Castilian accent. He lowered his cigar from his mustached lips and puffed a ring of smoke as he addressed her. "Are you going outside to play?"

"Yes father," Wednesday answered, grabbing her thick wool coat from the coat rack by the door. She through the black coat over her shoulders and pushed her arms into the sleeves.

"Are you going without your brother?"Morticia asked in her monotone voice, as she lifted her head of Gomez's chest.

"Yes, he wanted to come but I told him want to be alone today," she told her mother. Wednesday pulled her blood red mittens out of her coat pocket and slid them over her hands. Then she pulled a smaller version of her own coat out of another pocket and buttoned it onto her doll.

"Alright dear," Gomez said, turning to Morticia. "Just be careful and be home in time for dinner. Grandmamma is making henbane soup tonight, your mother's favorite."

"Okay father, I will," Wednesday replied as she turned towards the huge wooden door. She grabbed the large door handle and turned it to right. As she threw her body weight against the door, it creaked in disagreement. The door finally swung open and Wednesday stepped out into the cold mid-morning air. The rain pelted her in the face as she looked up towards the clouds. Wednesday closed her eyes and felt the rain fall around her. Wednesday opened her eyes, clutched her doll to her chest and sprinted towards the backyard.


	3. Chapter 3

Her feet slapped the soaked ground and splashed muddy water into the air. Wednesday followed a long gravel path to the back of the house until she saw the giant dead tree that kept the graveyard in its shadow. She slowed her pace as she neared the scraggly, towering tree.

Once she was past the end of the house, the cemetery was fully in view. Wednesday walked toward the never ending patch of land covered in granite headstones and memorials. As she neared her first headstone, she squinted to read to read the name.

"Tabitha Addams…some people are just so lucky." Wednesday said mysteriously as she walked past the headstone; scraping her fingernails across the name carved on the front.

Wednesday continued to stroll down the water logged graveyard path toward the crypt in the center. The water poured down onto the crypt, surrounding it with a moat-like puddle. When Wednesday arrived at the door to the crypt, she looked up at the threshold above her. She reached up and ran her fingertips over the crease between the threshold and the crypt wall. Finally, she felt what she was looking for and grabbed it. Wednesday brought her hand down to her face and opened it. In her hand she held large, ornate skeleton key. Wednesday put the bronze colored key in the large keyhole on the crypt's door and turned it forcefully.

The keyhole creaked and clicked as Wednesday finished turning the key. She felt the lock release its grip on the doorway and she pushed hard on the door until she felt it shift. Wednesday pushed harder until the door finally gave way and opened; scraping against the cement floor of the crypt.

When the door was open as wide as it could go; Wednesday stood in the doorway and took a deep breath through the nose. The crypt was dank, dark, and musty. That was just the way little Wednesday liked it. She walked over to the center of the crypt to a human length cement podium. Wednesday crawled onto the podium and lay out on top of it. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes and sighed. She put Marie Antoinette on the right side of the podium next to her. Wednesday lay on the podium; silently listening to the rain fall and the thunder rip the heavens apart.


End file.
